


Love, Comfort and Everything In Between

by requestables (orphan_account)



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Let It Be/Get Back Sessions, M/M, McStarr love !!, Ringo is proud of Paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 13:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/requestables
Summary: Paul is happy because he got out of bed, up and dressed on time. John and George don't understand the significance of it, but Ringo is always there to hug and kiss away Paul's pain at the end of a hard day.





	Love, Comfort and Everything In Between

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngieW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieW/gifts).

Paul McCartney had woken up on time. Got out of bed and dressed and in the studio  _ all on time.  _

“What’s got you so happy then, ‘ey, Paul?” Was the first thing Paul heard upon walking into the studio, 1969, a bounce in his step and a content smile on his relaxed face for once. A rare occurrence, as Paul was usually stressed and all mopey at the studio (which John would usually poke fun at, calling him a weak sod and a controlling arsehole, both of which Paul was  _ not _ ) - eager to get on with recording and then go home.

Today, he seemed… well, John didn’t know the word for it. He was happy and… proud?

Paul’s gaze flickered between John and Yoko for a second, his smile flickering away but returned just as fast, like it had never left. He sat down next to his bass and picked it up, strumming some chords that he thought would sound good together, hoping to perhaps make a new song so he wouldn't have to record and re-record all the same songs.

“Nothin’,” He finally replied, gaze settling back on John rather than his bass, “Nothin’  _ much _ .”

John laughed sarcastically, “You look proud. Or smug, I guess. What is it that’s got you like that?” His voice came out harsh, and Paul didn’t know whether he intended that or not, but either way his good mood was unfazed - yes, he  _ was  _ proud of himself. Probably not for reasons John thought.

“I- just- you don’t need to know.” Paul replied softly, contrasting John’s harsh tone. And, hopefully, John left it at that.

A few moments of silence later, George walked in, his pissed of demeanor obvious though he tried to mask it; they could always tell when he was pissed off, it was just a feeling they got to not mess with him when they sensed it. He didn’t say anything as he sat down and situated himself, placing the bag he had with him down at the side of the room before standing up again and making his way to Ringo’s drum set. Ringo hadn’t arrived yet.

Ringo was always the peacekeeper.

Paul wished he would get to the studios soon so he wouldn’t have to be around John and George alone, both of which were either annoyed at him constantly or just flat-out hated him. Ringo always helped Paul feel more comfortable. 

When the oldest finally did arrive, after an excruciating ten minutes of prolonged silence and quiet chatter between John and Yoko, Paul let himself exhale as he had wanted to for a minute straight, not wanting to make too much noise before as to disturb the other two.

“Hey, Rich,” Paul greeted him with another smile, relief flooding his thoughts;  _ he’s finally here!  _ \- the others weren’t as excited to see Ringo as Paul was, but he didn’t really care. Ringo was the only one who cared about him anymore…

Mood: Unfazed.

“‘ello, Paul!” Came the older’s cheerful reply, a small blush coming to Paul’s cheeks as they made meaningful eye contact, gaze meeting comfortably.

“Paul’s been real happy this morning and he refuses to tell us why!” John suddenly yelled out, his voice ringing throughout the room and peaking the interest of both George and Ringo, who looked between him and Paul, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Ringo would never force him to say anything; he couldn’t say the same about the other two.

“Tell us then, Paul, you’ve not been this happy in a while,” John carried on after receiving no reply from Paul.

He looked at the three of them and their expectant expressions, inwardly sighing to himself, they wouldn’t give up, would they? They’d keep  _ asking  _ until he told them, and though he was proud of himself, they wouldn’t be so proud of him. 

“I- fine,” Paul braced himself, hands clasping together anxiously, “I, uh, I woke up on time and I got out of bed myself.”

Laughter emitted from both George and John, who were both laughing so hard they were clasping their guitars in their hands; even Yoko gave a light chuckle, looking as elated as she could be with her blank expressions and hair-covered face.

Mood: Ruined.

Ringo was smiling, not laughing, but smiling. It wasn’t malicious or mocking, it was a proud smile.

“Why does that make you proud? We all got out of bed on time too!” George had to stop between the two sentences to laugh loudly, voice shaking with amusement. John nodded in agreement and turned to Yoko to joke about it with her (even though Paul wasn’t completely sure she was capable of joking or even  _ emotion _ ); that was it. They’d made him tell them, and when he did, he just got made fun of. 

Great.

Yeah, that made him feel  _ much _ better.

The rest of the day in the studios went by so much slower than Paul hoped. He wanted it over so he could go home to his bed and his wine; the only two things that brought him any comfort anymore (though they simultaneously increased his downward spiral), but instead he was stuck in a room recording songs with two people who didn’t like him and one person who hadn’t said much to him yet. He’d stumbled over his lyrics and accidently strummed the wrong chords, only pissing the others off more.

And when the day was finally over, Paul watched John and George leave, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and confirm his pain, confirm his stress, not just from that one day, but from every day that had passed since the start of the Let It Be recordings. Each day passed and he was starting to feel less and less motivated to do anything but sleep, cry and drink. 

Three things that did not go well together.

At all.

“Paul?”

Paul turned from his seat at the piano to see Ringo, who obviously hadn’t left the studios yet. He was standing behind him, hands resting at his sides comfortably while he stared at the younger with pity in his blue eyes, along with an inkling of love somewhere in the beautiful swirls of water that were Ringo’s eyes.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m really proud of you,” He smiled and took Paul’s trembling hand in his, pulling the younger up and against him to hug him close, enveloping him with warmth and love and everything that Paul needed, his lips barely touching to Paul’s cheek as he left a soft kiss there.

Paul nervously let his arms snake around Ringo’s neck, the older’s arms around his waist. The hug was nice, it was different, and much-needed, and Paul found the confidence to tighten his arms around Ringo, hugging him harder.

He wanted more of this, more of Ringo, more  _ love  _ and comfort and everything in between. 

“Thank you, Richie,” He replied softly, sincerity obvious in his voice, which was shaking and full of emotion. It came out small and unsure, but only because Paul was unsure of himself and where he stood in that moment, in Ringo’s arms - he didn’t want to ruin it by talking too much, and so that was it.

Soon, the older pulled back and instead took Paul’s face in his hands, smile still on his blushing face. He leaned in and softly kissed Paul on the forehead before moving down to his lips, the kiss soft and delicate and like the younger would break if Ringo kissed him too hard.

It was everything Paul needed, and so, he let himself kiss back just as softly, the two of them alone in the studio after a hard day.

Ringo would always be there for him, Paul knew, his blush matching the older’s.

He’d always have Ringo.


End file.
